


The Trade

by lindenwaverly



Category: DCU, Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 17:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4714028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindenwaverly/pseuds/lindenwaverly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guy wakes, and Jordan is looking at him with the hollowest eyes he's ever seen. </p><p>Warnings: kidnapping, vague mention of non-con</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trade

Guy wakes like the sleep got punched out of him, gasping and clutching his stomach. He goes for his ring but it isn’t there, the space in his head full of green is empty and he’s going to die die die because Sinestro just stabbed him in the fucking stomach –

Except he isn’t, because he’s wrapped in bandages and lying on a bed, and Jordan is looking at him from the other side of the room with the hollowest eyes he’s ever seen.

“Come on, Jordan. I nearly died and now I’m up. Smile for appearances at least, c’mon.”

“Don’t get up.”

“Excuse me?”

Hal shifts like he wants to come closer, but he doesn’t. “Don’t get up. They’ll come to check on you and I want to –“

“Talk?” Guy suggests, but then Jordan raises his eyes and the penny finally drops. Jordan’s ringless. Guy’s ringless. They’re in a cave deep in the heart of somewhere and Guy is beginning to expect he shouldn’t have been so glib.

“Jordan…” It’s barely a whisper. Hal looks away, and Guy gets the feeling that even though all the available clues tell him they’re fucked beyond fucked, it’s probably _so much worse than that_.

“We’re on Qward,” says Hal.

“Qward? Why the fuck am I getting medical attention on Qward? Did we…. Did we win? Do we control Qward now?” Because he could see Jordan looking like this after a victory, searching  through all the jobs-well-done to find something to feel guilty over so he can perfect his brood.

“We didn’t win. We lost. We lost really fucking badly.”

“So we’re prisoners.” Something about that statement makes the taught line of Hal’s body snap, and he turns and punches the wall. Guy is across the room in an instant before Hal can try something like that again, catching his fist and wiping away the blood from the freshly torn skin. It feels like something’s broken in Hal’s hand – probably not from the punch, but hitting rock walls sure as hell can’t have helped.

“Hey, Hal, c’mon, hey – we’ve been prisoners before, ok? Don’t lose your shit now, yeah? We need – I need – you being your best to get us through this.” He caresses broken fist again, and for good measure he raises it to his mouth and presses his lips against the knuckles. It’s only when he looks up and catches Hal’s stare that the final clue in what’s-wrong-with-this-picture falls into place. Hal looks utterly defeated.

“You’re not a prisoner, Guy. You’re going home. I made a deal.”

People accuse Guy of being an idiot all the time, and he’ll accept he rarely gives people a reason to think otherwise. But he’s not dumb, and he knows what Hal’s traded the second he hears his voice.

“You dumb son of a bitch,” he says. Hal tucks forward like he’s trying to cover his stomach.  "Jesus, Hal. Is this how it works with you? You couldn't just say you love me?"

"Gardner, what the fuck - "

 "Because you do, don't you?" He stares at Hal and it feels like drinking bleach. "And this is what you fucking do, because oh no, no functional adult relationships for Hal Jordan, you'll only know you have something when he runs off and fucking _dies_ \- "

 "Hey. Hey." Hal grabs his shoulders. "Who says I'm going to die, ok?"

Guy wants to tell him that the alternatives will be worse. That if he isn't dead he'll be being tortured until he breaks and goes mad or Yellow. Sinestro will keep him, as an ally or as a - as a trophy, and Guy really doesn't want to think about what option two means.

He grabs Jordan and just rocks him, their foreheads pushed together so hard it’s painful.

“You need to let go,” whispers Hal. “They’re going to come in in a minute and I don’t want them to know how much they can – You need to let go, Guy, please.”

“Ok,” says Guy, but he doesn’t, not until he hears the door start to push open and he let’s go. They’re still standing in each other’s space, and he doesn’t listen as whichever Yellow underling they sent starts to speak. He keeps his eyes locked on Hal’s and it’s like they’re still touching, still holding each other. He can feel Hal’s eyes right down to his gut, like their gaze is a physical connection. He doesn’t drop eye contact even when they strap him into a wheelchair, and he thinks that’s the only reason he doesn’t struggle – the weight of Hal’s eyes on him, begging him not to make this harder. He has to break eye contact when they strap his neck so he’s facing straight ahead, but he can feel Hal beside him as they move down the long, rocky corridors.

“They’re going to put you in a ship and fire you into the next sector,” says Hal. “They say they’ve contacted some of our guys to pick you up.”

It’s such a flimsy fucking plan, with no guarantee and no way of Hal ever knowing that he got there safely, and Hal still traded himself for this – this vague hope that Sinestro would show some mercy, this deal that Hal might not even get anything out of and he wouldn’t know, this possibility that Guy would live. Guy is – deep inside he is touched, he is startled by how much love that shows, but mostly he is incredibly fucking angry and he has to bite his lip to stop that from coming out.

They load him into the ship and they can look at each other again, Guy sitting up in this ridiculous escape-pod-thing and Hal standing just outside, looking in at him and god, Guy would rather each glass than see Hal’s eyes like that but he can’t tear himself away.

“Don’t worry,” says Hal. His lips quirk upwards like he’s telling a joke. “You’re probably going to end up kind of hating me.”

“I kind of already do,” says Guy. He wants to reach forward, he wants to touch him, but his arms are strapped in and the lid is closing on him. He can see Jordan standing there through the porthole. He bites his cheek until the urge to cry passes because he’s not a total asshole. He can’t do that here.

“I love you too, Jordan,” he says. Hal’s face changes, tightens, and he doesn’t know if that’s good or bad so he just keeps mouthing the words as obviously as possible to make sure that he knows. Then the ignition kicks in and he’s spat back out into space so fast that the stars blur together, and by the time it slows down enough for him to breathe he doesn’t even know which one is Qward.


End file.
